


Just a Walk In the Park

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [58]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst, Established Relationship, Flirting, M/M, Mentions of Depression and Therapy, Mild Sexual Content, Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, hints of kustard, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-13 02:39:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18023219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: All Stretch wants is to be able to sleep in again. A shame the universe thinks that's too much to ask.





	Just a Walk In the Park

* * *

Stretch was asleep.

It was morning and sunshine was pouring through the window where Edge had helpfully pulled back the curtains. The scent of coffee was even wafting tantalizingly through the air but none of that mattered, nope.

Because he was asleep. That was his story and he was sticking to it. 

And as a sleeping person, he was well within his rights to ignore the sound of footsteps as someone who better not want sex came into the room. Whether or not it was his husband didn’t matter, because either way, Stretch was sleeping and therefore sex was not to be had. 

They’d been at it for half the night and it had been fantastic, fuck yes, that earthquakingly gorgeous, hot sweaty love sex of song and poetry. A little part of him never got tired of listening to Edge whisper sweet, dirty nothings, but now? He was damned tired. 

He’d earned this rest and his knees would testify to it.

A hand settled on Stretch’s shoulder, shaking him gently. “Love?”

Welp, so much for sleeping. Stretch didn’t even lift his head from the pillow. “if you’re wanting a little something-something, it’s going to be a half-hearted hand job at best.”

The sound Edge made probably counted as a laugh, “Much as I appreciate the offer, no, you can keep all your somethings this morning. Sans is here to see you.” 

That made him pry open a socket, “really? what does he want?”

Edge, who was of course already dressed and ready to seize the day and smelled enough like coffee to be awful tempting despite Stretch’s exhaustion, only shrugged. “Difficult as this may be for you to believe, he didn’t give me a written agenda. Come ask him yourself.”

“yeah, yeah,” Stretch grumbled. He sat up with a yawn, shivering as he left behind the warm cocoon of their bed and made his way to the closet. Knowing Sans, a bathrobe wasn’t going to be good enough.

His point was proven almost immediately. Sans was perched on the arm of the sofa, slouching against the wall and ignoring the fiery glare Edge was beaming at his still-damp shoes. It was kind of cute how Sans managed to get on Edge’s nerves the same way Red did, but considering they were sort of the same guy only from a different side of the color wheel, it wasn’t really a surprise.

“hey, pal,” Sans offered him a lazy grin. “edge tells me you were still catching zzz’s. why don’t we step outside so you can have a smoke, yeah?”

“Yes, please, very discreet. Excellent way to disguise the fact that you want to speak to him without me around,” Edge said dryly. “I’ll never suspect a thing.”

Sans only gave him a wink and a finger gun, seeming not to notice the way it made Edge’s socket twitch. “don’t need to be paranoid, edgelord, it’s no big thing. figured i’ll get him outta the house for a mo’ and you can finish scotch guarding the sofa.”

“I wasn’t scotch guarding it.”

“yeah?” Sans’s grin turned sharper, knowing. “from what i know about you two, it could probably use a second coat.”

Yeah, okay, time to break up this party because someone was going to get hurt and Stretch figured it would probably be him. 

“c’mon, you shit, the nicotine is singing my song,” Stretch yawned as he shoved his feet into his sneakers. He barely held back a squawk as Sans appeared at his elbow. Little fucker was smoother than any of them at shortcuts; half the time Stretch barely caught him at it. They both gave Edge a waggle-fingered wave on the way out the door and Stretch could only snicker when Edge flipped them off in return. 

His baby was always at his sassiest when he was pissy. 

“don’t think he believed me,” Sans said easily. He followed Stretch down the walkway, lingering at the end of the drive while Stretch dug around in his hoodie for his ciggies. It was a nice enough day, sunny and a little cold, but hinting at spring. 

“can’t imagine why. edge loves it so much when he’s in the dark about shit. you want to open that can of worms with him, then you can take him fishing. i’m not mediating.” He shook out a cigarette and wordlessly offered the pack to Sans while he lit his own. “so what’s up?”

Sans shrugged, stealing Stretch’s lighter to light his. He inhaled deeply, the tip glowing cherry red and finally said in a cloud of smoke. “haven’t seen you lately. wanted to tell you i finished with the infusion a few days ago, and, hey, andy’s not a bad lab assistant.”

Stretch snorted, meandering down the sidewalk with Sans more or less next to him. At the pace they were going, they’d probably get to the end of the block by dinnertime. A few of the kiddos were playing nearby and when they all waved enthusiastically, Stretch gave them a sloppy salute back.

“you mean andy kept his mouth shut and cleaned up after you were done. yeah, he’s a good egg.”

“did an egg-cellent job.

Stretch snickered and shook his head. “i don’t have the hen-durance for this today. what happened with the infusion?”

“same thing as before.” Sans rubbed a knuckle tiredly between his eyes, cigarette clenched in his teeth while Stretch could only sigh in disappointment. “even with the extra magic, it breaks down after a few days. we’re headed in the wrong direction. even if we get it working, we can’t reproduce the results en masse. but that’s an entirely different can of worms we can chew over later. came over today to bring you this.”

From his own hoodie pocket, he drew out a small plastic bottle, filled with an oily liquid. Stretch took it with a frown and opened it, sniffed warily. 

“it’s a healing infusion.” Sans tapped off a long cylinder of ash into the snow. “went with the tropical paradise scent for ya. thought you’d like that better than night orchid.”

“you spoil me. why are you giving me this?”

It wasn’t often that the lazy humor left Sans’s face, complicated by his permanent grin. But his voice was soft and serious as he said, “because he hasn’t noticed your base hp dropped to 4, and i figured you might want to try and do something before he did.”

A chill went through Stretch despite the sunshine, trailing up his spine and ending in a painful throb at his soul. “what?”

Sans sighed, dropping his cigarette to the sidewalk and crushing it beneath one untied sneaker. “you didn’t notice either, huh.”

He hadn’t. Swallowing hard, Stretch ran a check of his own HP, cringing inwardly when it showed Sans was right; he was currently at a max HP of 4. The cold seemed worse all of a sudden and Stretch closed his sockets, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to stifle a shiver. 

He’d been at 5 for a couple of years now, up from 1 when they’d gotten here. All of the low HP skellie triplets had topped out at 5 so far, but Stretch hadn’t a complaint about that, until now.

A gentle hand settled at the small of his spine, rubbing soothingly for a moment. “woah, it’s okay.” Sans let go and stepped back, putting a little space between them. He shuffled his feet awkwardly as he added, “this’ll help. i mean, fuck, it’s only fair. it was your magic to begin with.”

“but…i’m happy,” Stretch whispered. His voice seemed too small, pleading, with who? Sans? The universe? Because he was happy, there was no reason for his HP to be dropping. He loved Edge, he loved being married, he was fucking _happy_ , this wasn’t fair, it wasn’t “…i am. happy.”

“hey,” Sans said, unusually gentle. “no one thinks you’re not. c’mon, you know better than that, there’s lotsa reasons for hp to drop. for one, you’ve been sick a few times recently, yeah? use that, see if it helps before you start worrying, okay?”

It was true, he knew it was true, there were plenty of reasons for HP to fluctuate. He was probably lucky nothing had happened sooner. 

Stretch nodded and took a deep, shaky breath, then let it out. When he felt a little steadier, he slanted a look downward to Sans. “so when did you check me and find this time bomb?”

Sans shrugged. “didn’t.” He didn’t bother saying who did. “your bro likes to give everyone a once-over on movie night, though, so use it sooner rather than later, or you’ll be having a happy little chat with him instead of enjoying the indiana jones marathon.”

Yeah, there was something to avoid. His brother’s version of a trap had changed over the years, but you could still get caught in ‘em if you weren’t careful. Stretch twisted the bottle in his hand, watching the glossy liquid slosh around. “you really think this’ll work?”

“i think if it doesn’t work, it won’t hurt.” For all that Sans’s teeth were as blunt as Stretch’s, his wolfish grin wouldn’t have been out of place on another face. “red didn’t have any problems when i tried it on him. got a little pissed when he figured out the tingle wasn’t mint.”

He didn’t sound displeased by that. Ugh, there was a mental image he could’ve done without. Stretch hesitated a moment, asking slowly, “how are you two—"

“yeah, go on ahead and stop right there,” Sans interrupted. His grin was easy, his eye lights decidedly not. “you’ve been a bro, but it’s not up for discussion right now. i only have the energy for one crisis at a time and, brother, you’re at the front of the line.”

“am i?” Stretch gave him an exaggerated wink. “shame i didn’t get to go on the ride.”

Sans latched on to that bait eagerly, snickering. Neither of them were much for the serious brotherly bonding bullshit. “you’ll have to hit up space mountain another time. eh, have the edgelord help slick you up, bet he could use something to do with his hands.”

“you’d think, but the main thing he’s been doing on his vaycay is me.” Stretch rubbed at the small of his back ruefully. “can’t say i mind, but i’m starting to walk like a cowboy after a ride in a three-day posse. love him, but fuck, i can’t wait for him to go back to work.”

“at least you can get away in the lab. i was kinda waiting for you to call and pester me about stopping in.”

“eh, you know, been taking it easy, not doing anything dangerous lately…” Stretch stopped and sighed heavily, letting his head drop. “you already know.”

“that you haven’t been down to the lab since your accident? yep.” Sans reached out to worm a hand into his hoodie pocket to filch another smoke and Stretch let him. Probably needed a little extra nicotine boost because Stretch sure as shit did. They traded the lighter again, both of them with a smoldering cigarette before Sans went on. “the state of the place was a good clue. all your hydroponic plants are dead, pal, sorry.”

That made him wince; that was months of work down the tubes. “it wasn’t as much an accident as it was stupidity. not following basic lab protocol isn’t accidental.”

They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, not even pretending to walk anymore, and Sans looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he shook his head. “you’re gonna have to talk to your therapist, you know that.”

He couldn’t dance around with Sans on that point and knew it. Sans was firmly on the side of therapy after starting his own and it had done him well. He _was_ better with the therapy, the permanent shadows under his sockets faded. He was still an asshole, sure, but character flaws were past the skills of even the best headshrinker.

He didn’t know the full laundry list of Sans’s issues aside from some about Flowey. They’d all been there when the Human first showed up here so Stretch knew that wasn’t it. 

They’d never had the problems Underswap did with their Human; Frisk was a sweetheart of a kid. Their resemblance to… someone else…was superficial at best.

Still, the first time seeing them had been enough of a shock to send Stretch to his knees. He still didn’t pal around the kid too often, and the idea of being a diplomat like the others? Yeah, pass.

Stretch took a long drag of his cigarette, held in the smoke until it burned, remembering that first meeting. Edge had given him a disgusted look then, even as Blue fussed. He hadn’t known about…about Chara, okay, he could think the name. He could fucking do that much. Hadn’t known about what had happened to his brother, to Blue, during their patch of resets, but even then, buried beneath his disgust, there had been a hint of concern.

Edge cared so much, even when he didn’t want to.

Stretch slipped the infusion bottle into his hoodie pocket, avoiding Sans’s keen look as he said through his teeth, “i will, okay? i have an appointment in a couple days, i’ve been going every week like a good little boy, so you can save the lecture for a rainy day.”

Sans only held up his hands in mock surrender. “no lecture here. only, when the two talls and a small start worrying about you, it tends to roll over to me and red. gotta keep solidarity with the low hp crowd, kid.”

He easily dodged the half-hearted kick Stretch aimed at him. “we are the _same age_ , sans, you are such an asshole.”

He only smirked and gave Stretch a wink. “own it and bone it. welp, i’m going to take off from here, have fun with the edgelord!”

He was gone with barely a pop of displaced air. They’d only walked about two houses down. Stretch finished his cigarette before shortcutting back. Probably going to need to conserve his energy.

Edge was sitting in front of the coffee table when Stretch stepped inside. He was doing an actual jigsaw puzzle, the pieces spread out evenly. It was hard to call what he was doing enjoyment from the way seemed to be trying to light the pieces on fire from the force of his glare, but at least he wasn’t scrubbing the grout again.

Stretch kicked off his shoes and walked over, picking up the discarded box where the picture showed an endless pile of jelly beans and cheery letters declared it was ‘impuzzible’. 

Well, he liked it already.

Edge could only have started it this morning and he was already half-done, picking up a piece and snapping it in while Stretch watched. 

His baby was so brilliant. He liked to call Stretch a genius and maybe he was, but Edge’s brilliance was a hell of a lot more useful in practice. Strategy and skill were more valuable than being able to calculate a square root at any given time.

Didn’t matter, back to the task at hand, hmmm, there were so many fake emotions to go for…

“hey, babe.” Stretch went with relentlessly cheery and from the look Edge sent his way, he’d fooled him right around zero percent. Ah, well, can’t win ‘em all. “can you help me with something?”

“Of course,” Edge said briskly and gave Stretch the full weight of his attention. That was a little heavier than Stretch wanted to deal with on no coffee so he rummaged through his hoodie for the bottle of oil and handed it over to give him something else to stare at.

Edge took it with wary curiosity, shaking it a little the same way Stretch had. “What is it?”

Partial honesty was a good place to start. “it’s an infusion similar to what i used on you before, only there’s a little more juice to it.”

Edge hummed thoughtfully. “Why did Sans give it to you?”

“because it’s my turn to play guinea pig,” and before the inevitable protests could spill out, he hurried to add, “gotta have a control for tests, babe. and sans thought you might be bored. said helping with an oil change might refuel you.”

Okay, as rude as the sound Edge made was, it was also incredibly funny. “I can’t say I appreciate how concerned everyone is for my well-being.”

“trust me, we know.” But he seemed sufficiently distracted, at least. “why don’t you go lay down some towels while i grab a coffee?”

“Why is it, I wonder, that when you do experiments, I get extra chores?” But he stole a lingering kiss when he stood and the way he went up the stairs had a certain eagerness to it.

Stretch watched him go; he was never too tired to appreciate those hips in a pair of jeans. Then he went to the kitchen for a cup of sweet liquid caffeination. He was going to need all the wits he could muster up.

By the time he went upstairs, Edge had layered their bed in towels and changed into an old t-shirt that was worn so thin Stretch could see the outline of his rib cage. He’d also swapped out his gloves for a pair of inexpensive white cotton ones, which, ah, well, too much to hope he’d go without.

“Well, let’s get started,” Edge said briskly.

Stretch only smiled sweetly, tugging his hoodie over his head. “you’re awful eager to give me a rubdown, babe. can’t wait to get your hands on these bones?”

“Always.” His voice was low and dark, and Stretch shivered helplessly.

Okay, yeah, Sans might have had practical reasons, but his theory was sound. This was a great idea. Stretch shimmied out of his track pants and sprawled out in his front, wriggling until he was comfortable against the terrycloth. “have at it, babe.”

There was a slosh of liquid and the next sound Edge made was one of disgust. “Wonderful, you’ll smell like you took a swim in a vat of cheap piña coladas.”

“hey, you can piña my colada anytime you want—oh, fuck,” Stretch groaned as Edge’s thumbs pressed firmly against his thoracic vertebra.

Even through the gloves, Edge’s hands were warm, rubbing the oil over him in long, firm strokes. He shifted over to the scapulas, working his way down to the intricacies of his lumbar spine and massaging in between each vertebra, until Stretch was less of a skeleton and more of a puddle of bones against the towels. The desire that Stretch swore would be hibernating for at least a week was stirring with interest, settling into the hollow of his pelvic girdle.

When those strong hands reached his pelvis, Stretch whimpered, jerking as sly fingertips sought out places that Edge knew were sensitive.

“There?” Edge murmured when Stretch pushed up into his touch with a gasp.

“there! oh…”

He didn’t tease. Edge’s fingers moved with tender care as they brought him to a gentle peak and while Stretch lay gasping, shivering in pleasurable aftershocks, he continued downward, rubbing the oil into his femurs, down to the delicate bones of his ankles and feet. Sans hadn’t been kidding about the tingle but eh, he tended to get that whenever Edge touched him, anyway.

“Done.” Edge sat back on his heels. His hands lingered anyway, tweaking one iliac crest gently.

“okay,” Stretch was proud that his voice didn’t so much as wobble. “go ahead and check me.”

He tried not to cringe as the invasive prickle of it washed over him. Most people didn’t even seem to notice them; it was just a sign of his luck that Stretch was sensitive to it. 

“Hm. It doesn’t seem to have done anything. Your HP is 5, the same as normal.”

Stretch kept his face in the pillow a minute longer, closing his sockets briefly.

“eh, that’s what was supposed to happen, babe,” Stretch said evenly. He rolled over and tried a leer on for size, finding the fit to be easy enough. “tell you what, how about i return about half of the favor? i promise it’ll be the better half.”

Edge arched a brow bone. As though Stretch couldn’t already see the faint crimson glow coming from right around his crotch level. “Do you mean you have more than a lackluster hand job to offer now?”

“oh, honey,” Stretch let his voice drop to a throaty growl, lifting his arms over his head and arching his spine with a groan. Edge’s eye lights flared, miniature supernovas. “i think i can do much better than that.”

But he laughed softly as Edge leaned over him. Catching his shoulders even as Stretch wrapped his legs around his hips, neither of them caring about the oily smears he left on the jeans. 

Fuck it, he could give his pelvis a vacation of its own next week and besides, there were worse ways to dust.

* * *

Later, Edge didn’t even look up from his nearly finished puzzle when Stretch stepped outside, well accustomed to him wandering out for a smoke.

Instead of pulling out his cigarettes, Stretch teleported to the side door at his brother’s house. It was plain without even a window in it, steel and secure. He lifted the cover on the keypad and hesitated, fingers hovering over numbers. 

Then he clenched his hand into a fist, ducking his head as he let it fall closed again.

“Mister Papyrus Stretch Sir?”

Stretch came too damn close to screaming and the fleeting urge to form an attack didn’t even make it past a thought. He turned to the kid standing behind him with a smile pasted firmly in place.

“hey kiddo,” he said cheerily, “what’s up?”

The kid wasn’t convinced. His small face showed his worry, small brow furrowed. “Are you okay? You looked sad.”

“yep, i’m all kinds of okay.” He crouched down and scrubbed his knuckles over the kid’s head the same way he’d done to his brother when he was little. The same way he still did to his bro. It earned him a little smile, but not quite a laugh, hrm. “tell you what, how do you feel about doing an experiment tomorrow? i’ve been making some plans and edge is still off work. bet we could rope him in to help.”

The kid brightened instantly. “Yeah, okay! Tomorrow morning?”

“sounds good. see you then!” He called as the kid ran away. Stretch winced as the kid took a header right into the snow. He scrambled back to his feet without missing a beat, running off to tell all the other brats what was up.

He let the smile drop, gave the door a last glance, and then turned away. Almost, he took a shortcut, but in the end, Stretch simply walked back home. He could use the air. 

-finis-


End file.
